


desperate.

by fuckingkinney



Category: Shameless (TV), Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:39:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckingkinney/pseuds/fuckingkinney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did you not hear me before when I told you to hurry the fuck up?!” Mickey all but barked, only to hiss out as Ian fisted a hand into his hair and tug his head back harder than necessary.</p><p>If Mickey was going to act like an impatient bitch, Ian was going to treat him like one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	desperate.

Fucking in Kash N’ Grab became all too easy of a solution that neither Mickey or Ian cared about. It was simple: lock the door (and back after Frank), flick the sign and then unlock once they were done. It wasn’t like Linda checked the cameras anymore, she didn’t really need to. Mickey was the one that stole from the store back when they were needed and anyone that dare tries to is quickly put off when the Milkovich threatens them without even looking up from the topless magazine he held over the front of a playgirl magazine.

So when Mickey walked in, teeth already playing with his bottom lip and glancing too often in Ian’s direction, the redhead hadn’t been able to help himself. Sure, he made him wait, played oblivious with the urge to smirk the entire time that Mickey shifted around with intent in front of the counter.   
Instead he ignored him, because –for once- Ian liked the fact that he had the charge. That he was the one that got to pick and choose when he wanted it to happen, not Mickey. Mickey could just wait until he wanted him this time. Well, that was the plan anyway. 

It would have went a hell of a lot better if Mickey hadn’t moved and pressed his crotch against his ass whilst he was stacking shelves. Then literally forcing him into the back with a mumble of how he’d already locked both doors.

Ian smirked, deciding against commenting about how willing Mickey was that day. He’d probably get punched. 

So instead, he forced the smaller of the two against the boxes, ignoring his glare as he forced his security vest off, the one underneath going with it. Pulling away to tug at his own, Ian paused as Mickey fumbled with his jeans, snarling at the zip as he tried to force them down, only to have to undo that as well.

“Will you fucking hurry up?” He scowled as he forced his own down before searching, cursing the whole time as Ian only blinked at him. “There better be a damn—“ 

He cut off as he pulled out a box, ripping it open easily and shoving a condom in the redhead’s direction before moving to bend over the boxes. Well, this definitely hadn’t been what Ian had expecting when he’d dragged him back here. He peeled his top off carefully before throwing it onto the pile of the rest of their clothes, moving up to behind the shorter of the two. He pressed against him testingly, a hand going to his hip.

“Did you not hear me before when I told you to hurry the fuck up?!” Mickey all but barked, only to hiss out as Ian fisted a hand into his hair and tug his head back harder than necessary.

If Mickey was going to act like an impatient bitch, Ian was going to treat him like one.

“Will you shut up for one second, Mickey?” He cut back, fingers curling tighter into his hip before forcing them back, his own snapping forward at the same time.

He bit back a groan, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he revelled in the sudden feeling around him. His eyes darted down to Mickey’s face, to his fingers gripping at the edge of the boxes. So instead, Ian tugged his hips back again, upwards until he was all but on his tiptoes. Which just made him kick his legs apart wide. 

“Gallagher, what the fu--”

Ian cut him off, holding onto him firmly as he snapped his hips forward again. He was only spurred on by the broken grunt he heard in response, keeping the pace up as he let his thrusts rock furiously, quickly. Insistent to hear that noise again, insistent to make it the only noise that Mickey could make. 

Each time the Milkovich tried to bury his face against one of his forearms, Ian only tightened his grip on his hair, pulling his head back again and kneeing his legs apart wider again until he was left on his tiptoes. His movements stopped until Mickey clawed at the wall infront of him impatiently, resisting the urge to move back against the ginger.

“Ian.. Ian, move.” He grit out, eyes closed and the skin beneath the writing on his knuckles whitening. “Ian, for fuck sake!”

Finally pushing himself backwards, grip tightening on the boxes if it were at all possible to stop himself from falling over, Mickey ignored the groan that rang in his ears from above. Only forced himself to do it again, and again, and again.. He could feel the sweat building up on both of them, could feel his climax approaching with each short jab Ian forced forward. 

His hand dropped between them, whining before he could stop the noise as his hand was slapped away, the grip gone from his hip. The one in his hair fell to the opposite one, continuing to push himself back in a frantic rhythm as he could feel it building up too quickly, too intense and all he could do it choke it out into his arm. When Ian came, he shuddered at the low noise above him before letting his eyes closed, breathing heavy as the Gallagher laid over his back.

Mickey didn’t move, willed his mind to believe that he didn’t like it whilst Ian stayed silent, fingers curled on his hips again as he willed his mind into believing that he couldn’t actually move.


End file.
